


Coffeeshops and Cracked Crowns

by netherprince



Series: The King and I and Him [1]
Category: X-Ray & Vav (Cartoon)
Genre: Implied abuse, M/M, Multiplicity/Plurality, au where jon is a villain, written by an actual plural writer!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 20:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5347688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/netherprince/pseuds/netherprince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan Haywood is a flawed man. The King is not always the most helpful when it comes to this fact.</p><p>According to both of them, the villain known as 'Rising' is very, very interesting.</p><p>Aka, Ryan is plural and also doesn't know how to talk to cute guys unless it involves food.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffeeshops and Cracked Crowns

Mistakes.

That's what Ryan leaves in his footsteps, long lists of mistakes and pain and confusion. He has apologies he should make, lies he should make up for, but he won't.

 

It's not always his fault, specifically. Sure, the hands are his, but they aren't always, are they? When he was younger, not the super villain he is today, before blogging sites made everything easier to understand, after he clawed his way out of his home- his 'home', what a joke- Ryan Haywood saw a doctor.

The doctor gave him little pills to swallow and told him that nothing in his head was real. That the protector watching over him wasn't real- that the vengeful thing that cracked his father's skull with a fake crown wasn't real.

 

When the pills stopped doing anything, when he got older, he realized that he had been lied to. 

 

Now, the King does the talking. Does the walking. Does what Ryan needs him to do, and they're strong and safe together and no one will ever, ever hurt them again. Not even two spandex-clad weirdos; oh, sorry,  _heroes._ Even if Ryan thinks they'd be fun, outside of all this. If they weren't so bent on this idea of justice, of heroism, of goodness being the way to make your fame. But oh, they don't know that heroes might have a flash of the limelight, but no one forgets the villain. No one forgets who wears the crown. Especially when the people want someone to blame.

Of all the people blame get passed around to, it's the King's fault, actually, that Ryan opens his eyes and he's towering over some masked villain with a few too many hands.

* * *

 

_Don't you know this is our turf, Rising?_

_Hey, hey, listen, there's room for a king and a host, isn't there? Haha, c'mon, King, we can work this out. Like civilized people._

_Oh, Rising. Ha, ha, ha. Don't you know?  There's already a king and a host here._

_What? Wh-_

_You didn't know?_

* * *

 

And it's Ryan's fault when he stumbles back, snatching the golden crown off his head, slumping into a filthy alley wall. "Fuck him, fuck this, fuck, fuck." The King sliding back into headspace always leaves his head pounding, makes the world pulse and flutter and sway. Or maybe that's just how Ryan is, himself- he's never been able to figure it out. All he's sure of, right now, is that he's thankful the King hasn't actually hurt Rising. Ryan doesn't like when he fronts and he's covered in blood. It makes him feel too stereotypical of a system. He wipes at his face with the hand not holding the crown, calming the world.

Is he forgetting something?

"Uh... King? Are you okay, there? I mean, I'm glad you aren't yelling at me anymore, or threatening me, or. Y'know. But I'm actually supposed to be doing something tonight, and if we're gonna take a break, maybe we could move this to another day?" Oh. Right. The King was bullying the poor guy. Ryan looks over his hand, blinking tiredly. "...King?"

"No, no, not King." Do you make a fake name? What do you do? He hesitates, before hitting a supreme moment of 'who cares'. "Ryan. The one my oh-so-elegant friend was referencing. I'm... Listen, I'm very sorry. He's touchy with other villains. It's not specifically your fault, even if you picked a bad city to take up business in." Rising has the blank stare. It's a very specific one, the one that flashed in the face of every temporary school 'friend', every room mate. It's the stare of 'oh, this guy is off his rocker and I need to just smile and nod away.' "Well, you haven't run away, so that's a pleasant surprise."

"However, the King isn't the only one who can be dangerous in this body." After all, Ryan is still a strong, smart, defensive man, and it doesn't take much to tower over Rising and grin in his face and cage him in. "And if you tell anyone what I've told you, it won't be the King with a merciful death for you."

"You mean, you'll be merciful?" It's a joke. This guy isn't scared anymore. Was he ever? Ryan just bares his teeth, before leaning away.

"Oh, no. I'll be slow." Apparently, Rising doesn't know what fear means, because he just grins back. Is that a flush, or is that the blue and white of his mask changing the perception of colour? What a question.

Ryan's feral grin relaxes, and he just adjusts the villain's tie, before turning away. "Maybe I'll see you around. If you don't get killed, or locked up, in the meantime." With that, he walks back to the lab, feeling overly smug. Overly pleased? Curious.

 

Of course, because luck is a thing,  _of course_  they see each other again. This time, though, it is not in a dark alley, or in a fight, or anything related to their dark lives.

It's over coffee. 

Ryan didn't know, and neither did Rising. Not at first. Amazing things, masks can do to hide your identity. Amazing things, being a villain does to your appearance. Ryan figured out who the other villain was when the name 'Ryan' was called, and the man went to fetch his coffee, and another cup was dropped, spilling a little onto a table. The jumpy things humans are, he looked on instinct, and there he was. Rising- or, as he sees on the rolling cup before it's picked up, Jon. Jon... Rising. Jon Risinger. The writer that pens those wonderful articles about him. The one who isn't Ash. Oh, this is excellent.

He lifts his own cup and smiles to Jon, taking his pastry and even ordering a second, absolutely generic one. One that no one would turn their noses up at. Ryan likes to call himself generous. He even brings napkins as he slides into the booth, mopping up the remnants of coffee. "Hello, Jon."

"-How do you know my-"

"Your cup." Offering the pastry- some kind of turnover, he thinks- is received with a strained smile, and a quick crown shape is drawn with a finger on the table, accompanied by a questioning look. "Oh, no. He doesn't need to be in such a pleasant place, does he?"

"I, uh. Guess not? You didn't have to-"

"Nonsense, it's my fault you lost coffee. How else am I supposed to make it up to my favourite writer, hm?" Oh, finally, some actual reaction besides a dropped cup. Jon gapes at him, and Ryan just smiles. "Oh, you don't think I read the paper? What would I be if I didn't watch our approval ratings, eh? And, let me say, you do wonders for them. 'A paragon of villainy, if such a thing exists?' You flatter me, Jon." Ryan sips idly at his own coffee, hissing when it nearly scalds his tongue. "If this coffee didn't smell so good here, I'd make mine at home."

This time, Jon's smile is more freely given, and it makes Ryan feel very comfortable. "I just think it tastes good here. And the company's nice enough."

"Not a fan of the way coffee smells?"

"I can't smell it. Or anything else. Makes getting a place to live a lot easier, even if my friends hate me." Well, that's interesting. And good to know. 

"Ah. Well, at least you can appreciate decent coffee either way." 

Ryan doesn't stay long, which seems to be agreeable to Jon. Things to do, places to be, and all that. After all, Ryan is still a CEO, and he's still not exactly suited to daily life. Jon is a busy writer, and Ryan got him to sheepishly admit that, yes, the next article is about him scaring off other villains. "Not me, the King," gets a quick nod, even if Jon still has some of That Look that makes Ryan skin crawl. Not as much, but it gives him a feeling of being a caged animal. 

There's no agreement to see each other again sometime. 

It doesn't seem to be necessary.

 

Ryan still gets the shakes when he's alone- alone being relative, because when he closes his door, he sinks deep into headspace. Into the throneroom he's made over the years, carefully designed. It only has two branching rooms, one for himself, and one for the other.

He's seated on the throne, because he needs the feeling of control, when the King lurches in from his room. He's not angry. Just worried. That's what Ryan tells himself, unnerved always by the sight of this fractured version of him. Bones jutting from pale skin, torn through precious fabrics, studded with jewels. A face like a skull, crowned with black metal. But it's only the King, who kneels at the throne, touches his hand. 

In the headspace, Ryan isn't the thirty-year-old the body is. He's not as soft. He's still in his early twenties and bears his own fangs, eyes glowing vividly and face cut like diamonds. He's what the King has to protect. 

"You're going to hurt yourself on him. You're going to be sad again. You'll end up making another Matt, Ryan. Do you want to do this?"

"Of course I do. I'm having fun. He's nice. He likes you, King."

"Oh, not me. He's scared of me." There are matching grins. "Then again, isn't everyone?"

"You know I'm not. Don't kill him unless I tell you to, big guy." And then Ryan lets himself rest. He needs it, to be able to front again, after all.

 

When he pulls himself back into his body, Ryan discovers that the King had taken the throne while he didn't realize. Not literally, but in the sense that Jon is spitting up blood and laughing hysterically, while Ryan rubs his cheek, hissing at a bruise. "Oh, hell- Jon, I told him-"

"Now, you guys know how to have fun, huh?" Jon is smiling. There's people he doesn't know crumpled on the floor, simpering. Cops? Jon- Rising- is wearing his mask. "I usually don't like fighting cops, but, man, you're fun. Ryan?"

The man nods, dazed, and reaches gently to wipe the blood off the other villain's lips. "You're hurt. You should, uh, you should come back to the lab. The hospital isn't friendly to villains, as you can guess." What he gets in return is a fierce, elated grin and a nudge with a gloved hand. 

"Only if you make me coffee, Ry. Maybe after, because I dunno how well my guts are."

And, being the people they are, instead of worrying, or shambling away quietly, there's uproars of laughter, villains slung together, and a crown tentatively borrowed.

 

.And, sometimes, a line is smudged, and Jon gets to see just how intriguing King Ryan can be


End file.
